You And Me
by LikeAVision
Summary: Because love is too hard :and too precious: to let go of.So hold on,hold on.-The final instalment to my TeddyLily story;also a oneshot-


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. I also do not own the song Who's to Say which belongs to Vanessa Carlton.

* * *

You and Me

He walks in.

She's not looking at him_ (__**of course**__)._

_She's never looking at him._

She's looking at Lorcan Scamander instead. She's laughing with him, at something he's saying. Her head is thrown back; her long, pale neck is exposed. Scamander's looking at it.

Or maybe not at her neck.

_**Little bastard.**_

-x-

She hears the familiar cacophony accompanying an arrival at the Annual Weasley Christmas-Hanukkah (because Aunt Audrey is Jewish)-Diwali (because Uncle Charlie married Padma Patil last year, and it's convenient to have all the festivities at once) Bash.

She knows it's him. She knows it the same way

_a sunflower knows the Sun has risen_

or

_bears and squirrels knows it's not winter anymore and spring and sustenance are finally here_

or

_Uncle Ron knows that the fried chicken is in the room, no matter if he's at the other end of it._

_**It's instinctive, you see**_**.**

She makes a concerted effort to not look at him. She laughs at something Lorcan Scamander is saying. She won't let him see. She won't let him see how she hurts.

She _**won't**_.

-x-

_and I try to pretend but I feel it when we're together_

-x-

Victoire assaults him as soon as he's in, of course, and he grins_ (faker)_ at her, and pretends to be paying deep attention to '_Merlin, Teddy, do you know what happened at work the other day?_'He sees all the Weasleys looking at them, pleased, contented grins on their faces.

He is _**sickened**_ at his own behaviour.

They probably expect him to get down on his knees and propose.

_Not unreasonable, really._

But he can't. He can't, because he can see _her_ out of the corner of his eye. She's always at the periphery of his vision_ (the periphery of his consciousness)._She's got a whole gaggle of boys around her now.

They're drinking her in, her _**bright colours**_, the _**intoxicating symphony**_ of her conversation.

And he's suddenly choked by jeal-

_**I won't say it**_.

-x-

He's talking to _her_.

Her. Her bright, beautiful cousin. Interning as a healer. Part-veela. Never-a-bad-hair-day-_Victoire_.

Sweet Victoire. Ever-serene Victoire.

Certainly not like her, with her 'temper tantrums' as everyone calls them_ (why is she always treated as a child?),_ her 'wild hair'_ (this is supposed to be complimentary)_, her mediocre grades_ (she's not 'maximizing her potential'. Sure, Mum)._

He looks happy. He's always been happy with her and in a few days_ (bet on it-her cousins and brothers already have)_ he'll ask her out.

And then they'll fall in love, and get married, and do the whole white-picket-fence thing, and _dammit_, but _**she **_wants to do that with him _(he is **her** best friend)._

And however much she may try to shine; she can never outdo the pale, dazzling glow of perfection, can she? She is clunky old jewellery salvaged from thrift shops and thrown-out cocktail dresses and blue jeans that her aunts and her grandmother have no use for anymore and a loud, loud laugh to drown out the sound of her jaggedly breaking heart. She's nowhere _near_ perfect.

Her friends call her _eclectic_, and _interesting,_ and she likes being eclectic and interesting, but that isn't enough. It's never been. It never will be.

And she wishes with her _**aching**_ heart and her _**love-ravaged**_ soul that she could be like Victoire.

Could _be_ Victoire.

Be the one he wants.

But it's impossible. So, so, impossible.

_**So too bad, little Lily. She gets what you've always wanted. It's 'cause she's older, darling. **_

-x-

_who's to say i can't live without you_

-x-

Victoire departs, and Harry attacks.

He's suddenly struck with an _intense, clenching_ longing for those times when they used to talk.

Him and Lily.

It's hard to believe it was only a couple of years ago.

_It seems like a lifetime._

And then he looks at Harry, sees his bright-green eyes _so much like hers_ and he is suddenly drowning in guilt, which he discovers suffocates him like a swimming pool full of jell-o.

_He should __**not**__ be feeling this way about her-she's __**too young**__._

_**Too late, Ted.**_

And then Harry calls _her_ over.

And those few minutes spent talking to her are

_Heaven_

and they are

_Hell_.

After what seems like an _age_, she is close by. Close enough to touch.

He can smell her perfume; feel the silk of her silver scarf_ (tied around her beautiful, wild hair today) _brush his arm through the thin sleeve of his lamb's wool sweater.

_He_ is the one getting drunk on her conversation._ He_ is the one dissolving into her colours.

It's as it should be, because she is his, always has been.

And yet-

She barely looks at him. She barely talks to him.

It is obvious that she doesn't want to be here.

Those few minutes resurrect him_ (he was good as dead without her)_ and kill him again.

And he's struck again, _again_, by the realization that-

_**She can never want me.**_

So he lets her go.

-x-

Suddenly her father, who's talking to him, spots her. And calls her over.

And the four minutes she spends talking to him are

_agonising_

and they are

_euphoric_.

She is pulled to him by what seems like pure magnetism, and she can't help feeling that this is where she's _meant to be_, the rest of her_ life(__**stop it, Lily**__)._And yet-

She can't look.

She can't speak, aside from monosyllables.

She can't move.

_She can barely __**breathe**__._

She feels like a gaudy Chinese toy next to Victoire's Barbie-doll perfection, and she wonders if he wishes he was with her instead.

In all probability, yes.

So she escapes. She escapes to the kitchen, to the warmth of the hearth and the familiar, and the reassurance of childhood memories.

_**It was never so complicated back then.**_

-x-

_and who's to say, we won't sink in doubt_

-x-

He finds her hours later in the kitchen, abandoned after preparations for the party were over, the rabble of half-empty pots and pans scattered around her .The fireplace is flickering dimly.

She is a beautiful sight, her long hair fanning out on the kitchen table, the dancing firelight bringing out glints of gold against the blood-red_(Gryffindor colours-ironic) _as her shoulders in their turquoise sleeves heave.

And he's not surprised in the least to find her like this.

So this is why she deserted the party.

_**Scorpius**__. Of course._

He'd like to wring the little bugger's neck.

But at the same time, he can't help feeling an overpowering sense of relief.

_So it wasn't him, for her._

_He wasn't her 'one'_.

And while that doesn't change _**anything**__ (don't you even think about it, Teddy)-_

_There's still room for __**wishful thinking**__. Isn't there?_

But in any case, like a good friend, or brother figure, or whatever_ (what is he to her, really? a friend? a brother? anything? nothing?)_he heads over to comfort her. She looks up, her eyes bloodshot, red rimmed_ (still so beautiful)_, and he puts his arms around her. She leans in, and _Merlin_, but it's been so long since he held her like this, and she's still a _perfect fit_.

_And he isn't sure who moves first._

Because by the time he gets around to thinking

they are already

_**kissing**_

_(_**us?**_)_

and he's _**drowning,**_** sinking**_**.**_

His vision is swallowed by powerful, exhilarating _**black**__ (not rainbow colours like they say, is it?)_, and he has to hold on to the table for support, and her _touch (__**oh her touch**__) _sends waves of _**need**_ through him.

_And he isn't sure when _

but a simple _brush of the lips_ has turned into something much, much more along the way, and she's gripping his sleeve with one hand and running her other hand through his hair,fisting it and he's _pulled her close_ and is holding her tight as he rakes his fingers through those soft claret, russet, _redredred_ curls like he always dreamed of doing

and he tries to _**bruise her mouth**_ and _**make her his**_.

And that's when Percy barges in and sees them.

-x-

She's crying.

Because it hurts, and lately crying seems the only thing to do; although having such a big family means everyone knows when she's been crying. But that's okay; they think it's because of Scorpius.

_Hardly._

She hates crying. It makes her feel so much like-

A stupid _girl_.

But then again, she is, isn't she? She's a stupid girl. stupid to fall in love with _him_. And then _**need**_ him so much, when she can't have him._ What's the purpose_, her practical friends would say,_ a guy who causes you so much pain isn't worth it_.

But

_it's like gravity_

the hold he has over her. She can try and try, but she always comes back to him. She can try to revolve around another planet

_but in the end, she is __**his, only his**__._

And so she's sitting there crying when he comes in. She hears the sound of footsteps

_and she knows, __**again**__, it's him_

and then with a sympathetic, understanding_ (but what does __**he**__ understand?)_look on his face he puts his arms around her.

_And she leans into his touch because that's also instinctive_

and she's always belonged there.

_And she isn't sure how it happens_.

_**How did they get so close?**_

_(__**his eyes are grey, stormy today**__)_

She just knows that she's

_**buoyant, floating**_

as he **kisses** her.

And it's the barest _touch of the lips_ at first and then his arm encircles her waist_ (oh)_ and _pulls her close_ and she holds on tight and runs her hand through his hair as he tangles his fingers in _hers_, freeing it and his lips aren't gentle like she thought, they're rough and they **hurt** her and somehow that's even better_ (i could get __**drunk**__ on this) _and oh Merlin

_this is what happens in her dreams_

_**only she never imagined it being this beautiful and imperfect.**_

And then the door bangs open and **fuck**-there's Uncle Percy, goggling at the both of them.

-x-

_who are __**they**__, anyway?_

-x-

He doesn't know how he gets through it. The embarrassment, the mortification, the _pain_ that follows-it's painfully clear in his mind.

Her uncle had gaped at them for a few moments, and then shaken his head in disbelief. He had then muttered_-"I'm going to get your mother"._

And then he had heard him announcing loudly in the parlour what misdemeanours he had discovered.

_**Pompous, tactless **_**arsehole**_**.**_

All hell broke loose, of course.

Everyone had stared wide-eyed as they walked slowly out of the kitchen.

_The worst?_

The worst hadn't been James's look of horror mixed with embarrassment.

Or even Victoire's slow sinking into the couch and burying her face in her hands.

It had been how _stunned_ Harry looked.

He hadn't looked hurt, or disgusted.

_Just simply stunned._

Then, dropping his eyes from Teddy's, he slowly turned around and walked up the stairs.

Walked away from Teddy. His godson.

_Oh_ it hurt.

And then Lily had been dragged upstairs by her mother, who had only spared him a cold look, and-

_he hadn't seen her since._

And that's what scared him the most.

He didn't think he would be able to bear it if-

if it had just been-

_**Say it, you **_**coward**_**.**_

_A onetime thing._

And she was as disgusted and embarrassed by it as the rest of her family.

But he couldn't bear to not know either.

So here he is. On her porch, in the middle of heavily snowing January. Trying to work up the courage to ring the bell.

This is what he, Teddy Lupin, _**gorgeous boy**_, has been reduced to.

_Oh Merlin-__**he**__ can't do this._

How can he suddenly think that he can be brave, after a lifetime of running away and of avoiding the hard decisions and the harsh reality?

And then he turns to go,

and he liked to believe it was fate, later when he thought about it. Because what else could have caused her to come out at _exactly that moment_?

And she stands there and _looks _at him_ (and that look __**broke his heart**__ and gave him courage at the same time)_, and so he says_ (no thinking, no planning, just-)_

'_**I love you, Lily.'**_

And it isn't difficult like he thought it would be

_it is the easiest thing in the world to say those words_

_and it feels like a burden had been lifted off his heart._

And she crosses the time and the distance and the _everything_ between them, slowly, and her eyes are bright and she kisses him

_like she's afraid of letting go._

And he knows.

She loves him back,and the happiness accompanying this knowledge-

_it beats everything he's known._

-x-

It was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

And since then, she hasn't said a _word_ to her family (especially not Uncle Percy, with his artificial apologies).

_Why had he had to __**announce **__it?_

She had seen her cousins-and, as she had _wrongly_ supposed, her friends-giving her cold looks as they assembled near Victoire, who of course was making a spectacle of herself, sinking down and wailing. Bloody soap-opera drama queen.

They banded around her like some sort of righteous army.

_All against one._

And then mum grabbed her and dragged her up

And what followed was familiar.

_But not._

Sure, she had shrieked. There was the usual tongue-lashing_ (I am __**twenty**__, for Merlin's sake)._

But then she had suddenly sunk down on the sofa. And cried. Not like Vic, either-no great sobs and wails. Tears had simply rolled down her face, and-

well, she could have comforted her, but she walked out_ (the back door, because she couldn't bear to see him)_ instead.

Because she was sick of it all.

She was sick of

_being treated like a baby_

_(because I might have loved it once but I don't anymore, I want to be listened to)_

and nobody seeing through her

and realizing she was in love with him

(_you don't know me at __**all**_)

and offering kind words of comfort

because dammit, they had done that for Vic, Dom, Roxanne, Molly and Lucy, and _she_ wanted the fairytale _too_,

_she wanted her family to love her__too._

And she was sick of being treated like a particularly unreliable firecracker or an unwanted guest who turned up anyway, at all family gatherings

_(so what if she spoke her mind, she should be __**allowed**__ to_)

And she wanted a house full of colour and warmth like the Burrow, and not the golden career in sports or saving-the-world and the London townhouse.

_(I am not __**you**__)_

And she wanted Teddy, too.

_(and everything,everything hurt so much)_

And why should she **not** get what she wants?

_Just because she's a __**child**__, and she doesn't __**matter**__?_

But suddenly (always suddenly, because she avoids thinking of it as much as she can)-

_What if he doesn't want her?_

And it was just

_a onetime thing?_

_(no,please no)_

So she walks out_ (she's thinking too much and that always leads to disaster),_ to seek a breath of fresh air,

and because the milk is souring and she has to face the world _someday_

and he is there.

And she believed, for that second that he was a mind-reader because

_how did he know to be there?_

and

_how did he know he had to say?_

'_**I love you, Lily'.**_

And then she could not speak, because her throat felt closed up and her eyes stung

But she hoped he got the message _(i love you too. since-forever)_ when she kissed him. And held on, this time.

-x-

_stand up, boy._

_i shine so bright when you're around._

-x-

And so they didn't live happily ever after

_because there were hurdles along the way_

_(__**but they made it through**__)_

And it wasn't a fairytale

_but that was because their story had no ending._

And their love was forever.

-x-LT-x-

* * *

A/N:

This is so awful, and I'm so glad this pile of crap is finally over and off my hands. This story has so much wrong with it it's not even funny-I need you to tell me where I haven't stayed in tense, and where the structure becomes confusing, and if I've used too many 'ands', and whether it's just too sentimental. Tomorrow I'm starting a new Parvati Patil story, maybe, because as much as I love them, I need a vacation from Lily Teddy(actually I'm hiding from them because I feel I haven't done them justice-I promise to return when I'm better).

And I love you guys for your excellent reviews which make me feel so much better about what a beginner I am.:)


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